


Wishing Well

by hellostarlight20



Series: If only... [8]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, in a totally innocent role, murder of crows, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 13:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14895489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: The Doctor disappears but there's nowhere for him to disappear to...except that well.





	Wishing Well

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kelkat9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelkat9/gifts).



> KelKat9 said: I should not contribute to your fic addiction LOL but I am cos I'm greedy for more fic ;) Ten/Rose Wishing well

Wishing Well  
Ten x Rose

“Doctor?” Rose called out again, properly worried now. He hadn’t answered the first time, which wasn’t all that unusual, but he’d literally been right next to her on their walk back to the TARDIS.

Then he’d disappeared.

“Doctor!”

The wind whipped around her, a storm about to break, and Rose hastily pushed her hair out of her eyes. He’d been right there! Suddenly the crows, who had followed them back from town, squawking all the way, started up again.

Rose eyed the group. She’d joked they tried to warn them about the oncoming storm and the Doctor went into a lecture about the brilliance of crows, their sense of community, and avian’s general affinity with the weather, when he’d wandered off.

“Don’t suppose you’ve seen the Doctor?” Rose asked them.

Cautious, she walked to where they perched on top of the well, chattering amongst themselves, some turning to her, and all looking as if the gale-force winds had no effect on them. She wished she could say the same, but the wind battered her, pushing against her as she fought to walk the few steps separating her from the crows.

“About this tall,” she continued, holding up her hand. Rose raised her voice—how good were crows hearing? “Seriously great hair, long, flappy coat?”

Nothing.

Rose sighed, but then she’d seen stranger things than talking birds. Even on Earth, where they currently were. Just as well, historic Earth wasn’t known for its acceptance of talking birds. Probably try to burn them at the stake.

The crows continued to chatter, mostly at her as she inched toward them, forcing her body to counter the winds.

“He was here just a minute ago!” She shouted.

“Rose!”

For one truly bizarre moment, Rose thought the crows had called her by name. For that heartbeat, no more than an instant, she eyed them as if they really had spoken to her, somehow learned to speak English, and quite clearly, and know her name all in the space of moments.

In the next second, she acknowledged the wrongness of that and besides, she’d recognize the Doctor’s voice anywhere.

In the third second, Rose raced to the well, or ran as fast as she could considering the winds, and looked down. She didn’t know what made her think _The Doctor is in the well_ , but his voice came from somewhere. Unless it carried on the wind, which wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but that’d have been some shout. Even for the Doctor.

“Doctor?” Rose leaned on the wall of the stone well and looked down.

The crows hadn’t flown off but moved to the other side of the well—Rose had no idea why. Probably to laugh and mock. Because the Doctor stood at the bottom of the well, looking disgruntled and very put out, but thankfully in one piece. A laugh may have escape her, but the wind stole the sound. Hopefully.

“What are you doing down there?” Rose blinked and looked around the relatively flat field. “How did you get down there?”

“I, ah, tripped.” The Doctor tugged his ear and looked at the sky, breaking eye contact for just long enough to tell Rose he fibbed.

Like she couldn’t figure that one out.

“Over what?” She snorted and didn’t even try to cover the sound. “Try again, Doctor.”

“Give a Time Lord a hand, would you?” He asked instead.

It was then she noticed he cradled something in his other hand, keeping whatever it was close to his chest. Rose squinted, mostly against the flying dirt and leaves, and tried to suss out what he held.

“Seriously, though!” She shouted. “How’d you get down there?” Rose looked for a ladder or rope, but the well didn’t even have a bucket. The arm across the well, whatever that was called, straddled the opening but didn’t even boast a handle. “Am I supposed to make a wish?”

Even over the wind and from inside the well she heard his indignant sniff. “This isn’t a wishing well, Rose.”

“How can you tell? There isn’t a sign saying it’s not.” She laughed and straightened. “Let me grab a rope or ladder from the TARDIS. Don’t move.” She snickered and swore the crows did as well.

Racing to the TARDIS, not far from the non-wishing well and being pushed by the direction of the wind, Rose burst inside. Immediately next to the door say both a long, thick rope coiled innocently as if it always sat there and a wooden ladder about a meter and a half long. Slinging the rope over her shoulder, she also spied a pair of heavy work gloves. Tugging them on, she raced out of the TARDIS, not at all surprised to see the crows still crowded around the well.

Definitely laughing at the Doctor.

The ladder looked narrow enough, or the well wide enough, to fit. How wide was a well supposed to be? Rose shrugged it off and carefully lowered the ladder down the well. She laughed at the idea, wondered if the Doctor stood in any water, and vowed to work on her core muscles.

Apparently, with all their running, she’d neglected other muscle groups.

Almost instantly the Doctor appeared at the top of the well. The crows swarmed around him, chattering and calling and doing whatever it was excited crows did. Rose stepped back, in case excited crows were also pooping crows.

“Now then,” she shouted, and of course that was when the wind abruptly died. Rose eyed the sky—in the distance a storm rolled in, but it looked no closer. Wonderful, they stood in the eye of the storm.

Did England get hurricanes? She’d never heard of that, but then she’d never followed the weather when she’d lived in London.

“What happened? Why were you in the well? And what on Earth are you carrying?”

The Doctor cleared his throat and sheepishly held out his hand. 

“Jack!” Curled in the Doctor’s palm, sound asleep, lay Jack, the cat Rose had rescued weeks ago in a storm just like this, on a planet far from Earth. She scooped him against her just as the wind picked up again. “Where’d you find him? How’d you find him? How’d he escape the TARDIS?”

The Doctor grabbed the rope and slung it over his shoulder, lifted the ladder as if it weighed nothing, and took her hand. “I found him in the well, obviously, saw him sitting on the edge.” He sniffed and steadfastly refused to look at her. His thumb, however, continued to brush her knuckles and his fingers tightened around hers. “Knew you’d miss him.”

Rose opened the TARDIS door again and they stepped inside the quiet ship. The Doctor had barely set the ladder down when she turned to face him. “You saw him from that distance, recognized him, followed him into the well, and what? Couldn’t scale back out?”

His eyes softened, and Rose’s heart sped up. “Knew you’d miss him,” he repeated. “Didn’t want you moping about the TARDIS.” But the way he said that, in his soft, understanding voice, told her what words didn’t.

The Doctor may have rescued Jack for her, but despite his moaning and groaning about the cat being onboard his ship, he’d grown to care for the little animal. Mostly he’d done it for her and they both knew that.

Rose’s heart melted.

She leaned up on tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

Pulling back, she met his eyes, clear and warm and so focused on her, Rose forgot how to breathe. His hands tightened on her upper arms—when had he held her? —and he leaned forward. Or she did. 

Their lips touched, tentative, gentle, soft. Just a press of lips, not the hungry, hard rush for more. Rose savored the feel, the cool weight of his mouth against hers. She stepped closer—

And suddenly felt Jack’s sharp claws digging into her arm.

Startled, Rose leaped back and stared at the kitten, confused. Awake now, and apparently not happy to be crushed between Rose and the Doctor—a position the man he’d been named for would have no trouble with—Jack-the-cat stretched and eyed his humans.

“Um, I’m going to—uh, lunch.” Blushing, awkward, nervous, Rose kept her gaze on Jack and stepped back. 

“Get Jack some lunch, I mean.” Not, definitely not have the Doctor for lunch. She felt her face heat even more. She licked her lips and swallowed, finally meeting the Doctor’s eyes.

He looked stunned, lips parted, eyes wide. His hands slid down her arms and cupped her elbows. “Right. Yes. I’ll—just—I’ll just set the TARDIS in the Vortex.”

Rose watched him bound to the console and flick levers and turn dials. She stared at him and vowed not to let this opportunity pass her by. Nope. Not gonna happen.

“When you’re done,” she called, cradling Jack to her chest. “Meet me in the kitchen. I’ll make you lunch, too.”

He met her gaze, and that slow, soft, toe-curling, finger-tingling smile lighted his face. The one he gave her, just her. “Meet you there.”

Rose grinned back, tongue teasing the corner of her mouth—yup, still 100% guaranteed to make the Doctor look—and turned for the corridor that lead to the kitchen.

“Jack, you and Mummy need to have a little talk about timing.” Rose lifted the cat eyelevel and tried to be stern. “Rule number one: no wandering off. Rule number two? No interrupting Mummy and Daddy when Daddy finally kisses Mummy. Got it?”

The cat yawned and blinked. Good enough. Now if only she could convince the Doctor not to run after that kiss…


End file.
